


your name, written in stars

by andnowforyaya



Category: B.A.P, K-pop
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Coming Out, Gen, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-07
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-24 10:04:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2577542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andnowforyaya/pseuds/andnowforyaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When someone turns 21, the name of their soulmate appears like a tattoo on the inside of their wrist. </p><p>Youngjae's an idol, so his 21st is a bit more complicated than that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is now translated into [Russian!](https://ficbook.net/readfic/4323229)

Manager Kang sits Youngjae down in his office and smiles at him across the desk. There are photos of him with all the band members he’s cultivated and guided and scheduled, over the past few years, all his successes and moments of pride, scattered around on the office walls and covering a festive bulletin board behind his door.

“Big month for you, Youngjae,” Manager Kang says.

It’s January. At the end of the month, he’ll be turning 21.

Like with everyone else in the world, turning 21 is a big deal. On the day of his 21st birthday, the name of his soulmate will appear, like an old scar, on the inside of his wrist, pale and gleaming silver. If he’s lucky, his soulmate will be older, and matching, and already have Youngjae’s name on their own wrist, and Youngjae won’t have to go through months or years not knowing; he’ll be spared the wait.

He dreads the possibility of a soulmate who has another’s name on their own wrist, though the chances of that happening are rare.

There is also the possibility that no name will appear, at all.

“Yeah,” Youngjae says, swallowing, fidgeting with his fingers on the arms of the chair. He wants to bite his nails. He tries not to, and forces excitement into his voice instead. “Finally.”

“I do this with all my idols, okay? No reason to feel nervous. We’re just going to go through what changes might happen to your schedule over the next few months after your soulmate is revealed, and also what might happen if someone comes forward with your name on her wrist. If it’s another idol, we might be talking about revisions to your contract, but of course we want to make sure we’re on the same page when it comes to privacy.”

“Okay,” Youngjae says.

Manager Kang smiles at him again, and then he pulls out a timeline on a spreadsheet on his tablet, turning it around so that Youngjae can look at it, too. “You must be excited, right? Your hyungs Yongguk and Himchan were a few years back. What do you think she’s going to be like? Have any guesses?”

Yongguk and Himchan both had the great luck of already having their own names appear on the wrists of two other idols in the industry, though that had been hidden from the public. When they’d turned twenty-one and they’d had matching names on their wrists, the company planned a Big Reveal, and it had made everything so easy. Idol pairs are already used to the ravaging thirst of the media and public, and know how to deal with fan outrage or backlash.

Not that there is much of that with his hyungs, since Yongguk looks so good with Hyosung, and Himchan and Sunhwa make an excellent pair. For idol couples like this, it’s just another simple step to add in a line to their contracts about maintaining their relationships with their partners and promoting healthy images as part of their employ, which is revisited on a biannual basis.

Soulmates tend to be people you already know. Youngjae’s not liking his options.

There’s always the option to keep your wrist covered, but that it is coupled with the suspicion that you’ve got something to hide.

He shrugs. “I don’t know. I haven’t really -- thought about it.”

“What do you mean?” Manager Kang asks incredulously. “ _Everyone_ thinks about it. Man, when I was dating my girlfriend, that was all we could talk about. Whether or not we were going to be soulmates. Whether or not we’d stay together if we weren’t. I mean, we _did_ , since we are; who wouldn’t? And I love her.” He swipes his finger around on his tablet.

“I’ve just been really busy, I guess. Idol life. I don’t really think about those things.”

“Well, I bet she’s going to be perfect for you -- petite, little face, smart. Probably smarter than you, even.” Manager Kang laughs good naturedly, but Youngjae’s laugh gets caught in his throat. He clears it, his smile shakey.

“What if,” Youngjae begins hesitantly, stomach in knots. “What if she’s not a she?”

For a moment, Manager Kang’s face is blank, a plastic cut-out mask. Then it changes quickly, lips turning down minutely and wrinkles forming in his forehead as he thinks. “Youngjae,” he says. “How serious is this question?”

Youngjae gives into nerves, fingernails between his teeth. He nibbles, a nasty habit. “It’s just a question,” he hedges, but he’s afraid he’s been caught. “They could be a she.”

Idol life changes after you turn 21. Youngjae knows this. Everyone wants to know who your soulmate is. All the questions turn into this search, all public appearances. He can try to be coy and mysterious, and to flirt with the public, but eventually the name will be revealed. It always is, whether by accident or paparazzi or in a press conference.

“TS is prepared to support you in case -- in case it’s _not_ a girl, but you need to be honest with us. It sucks but we need to know. Otherwise we won’t know how to plan and prepare materials. There’s just more to think about.” Kang’s frown deepens, but it is not unfriendly.

There’s more to think about. Soulmates come in all shapes and sizes, but the perfect, cookie-cutter image is still a male-female pair. They are easier to market. Love is love, but some love has a higher return on capital. It shouldn’t matter, but it does. Youngjae shrinks into the chair.

Kang sighs. He turns the tablet’s screen off, and leans forward over his desk, considering Youngjae’s silence. “How long have you known?” he asks, quiet, as though afraid his voice will carry through his walls.

Youngjae doesn’t know what to tell him.

.

Kang calls a family meeting. Yongguk, Himchan, Jongup, and Junhong come into the dorm’s living room, expressions mixed: sleepy, confused, mildly concerned. Youngjae sits next to Manager Kang and hopes for the best.

After, Yongguk places a warm hand on his shoulder, a small smile gracing his lips. He says, “Thank you for telling us. The media and fans and antis may pick this up, and it could be really hard, Youngjae. But remember that we’re a team. We support each other.”

Junhong looks at Youngjae without blinking, like he is trying to parse him out. Maybe he is thinking about all those times they’ve shared hotel rooms, all the skin Youngjae has seen, how free Youngjae is with his touches.

Youngjae swallows, nodding, listening to Yongguk’s words. They are good words, from a good leader, but all Youngjae can think about is the burden he will place on his bandmates if he’s outed -- he can only begin to imagine the storm of media speculation, intrusive reporting, the rumors. Their public relations team will have to work overtime, keeping up.

“I’m sorry,” Youngjae says. “In advance.”

“Hey,” Himchan says, shifting in his seat on a stool they had pulled over. His foot taps against the floor as he leans his elbows onto his knees. “Don’t apologize. Like Yongguk said, it’ll be fine. We’re sticking together.” He looks over at Jongup, and Jongup nods, but Jongup has always been agreeable.

They call the meeting.

Junhong leaves first, arms crossed, his lips pressed together in a thin line.

.

Youngjae is sixteen when he kisses a boy for the first time. To be fair, it’s not like he’s kissed many girls, either. Boys’ lips, he finds, are just as soft as girls’. Or maybe it’s just this boy’s lips in particular.

“How’s that?” he asks his friend. They are sitting cross-legged on Youngjae’s bed, facing each other, and Youngjae has just leaned over, narrowly avoiding losing his balance, to press his lips in a shy kiss to the other boy’s.

“It was nice,” his friend says, shrugging. “I don’t know. Maybe you should try it again.”

Youngjae tries it again. Lips are weird, he thinks. Soft and dry sometimes or slick and smooth at other times, and usually chapped. Why would anyone want to kiss them? But the second time around, something flares in his gut, and he presses himself further into the kiss.

The other boy gasps and pulls back, looking at Youngjae with dark, shining eyes.

They’re sitting on his bed.

Suddenly Youngjae is embarrassed, and he ducks his head as his friend stares at him. Why had he wanted to do this tonight, of all nights? He climbs onto the floor, where he’s laid out a futon and a couple of blankets and a pillow.

“Okay, so,” he says. “I guess I’ll take the floor this time.”

Whatever.

Tomorrow he’ll be auditioning for JYP Entertainment. He saw the promotions for it a couple of days back and signed up. If he does well, he won’t have time to worry about things like this. About boys with soft lips and dark eyes, kissing in the dark.

“Don’t be silly. We can share the bed, Youngjae,” his friend says.

Youngjae ignores him, and tries to go to sleep.

.

In their room, Junhong sits against the headboard of their shared bed, sighing and making faces at his iPad and not looking at Youngjae, who is trying to go to sleep next to him. The lights are off so when Youngjae looks up at the younger member, the glow of his tablet throws shadows over his face. It’s nearing three in the morning.

“I can go sleep on the couch,” Youngjae offers, “if you’re mad. Or worried.”

Junhong jolts, nearly throwing his head back against the wall. He pauses whatever he was doing on his tablet. “Worried? What? What are you talking about?”

Youngjae thinks about the meeting they’d just had in the living room, how Junhong kept staring and frowning and staring and frowning. “If you’re, like, worried about anything happening, or something,” he says vaguely.

Junhong says, “Youngjae, we’ve shared a bed for a whole year and sometimes we wind up cuddling. I didn’t care before and I still don’t care, now.” He puts away his iPad and flicks on the light on the little table by their bed as Youngjae feels the tension drain out of his chest. “I do have a question, though,” Junhong continues, a slight flush in his cheeks.

“What is it?”

“How did you know?” Junhong asks. “How did you find out you were -- you know.”

“Into boys?” Youngjae finishes for him. He pulls himself up to sit against the headboard, too, and Junhong stares at him with such intensity Youngjae almost doesn’t want to answer the question, nervous that Junhong will take his answer as some final word on the whole matter. But then, Junhong seems to need an answer, is gravitating toward Youngjae without knowing, their hips nearly touching on the bed.

Junhong nods.

“I don’t really think of it like that,” Youngjae begins slowly, scratching under his chin to try to form the right words. “Whether or not I’m into boys or into girls. It’s like, I always knew? I’ve been so focused on my career that I never stopped to think about it, but then when I _did_ stop to think about it, it just...made sense. I’ve always known. Does that make sense?”

“No,” Junhong says, pouting.

“I just always knew, if I was going to have a soulmate, they were going to be -- whatever.” He’s not explaining it the right way, but it’s the middle of the night and these are all the words he can come up with. Junhong looks disappointed, but not because of Youngjae.

Realization hits Youngjae like a flash of lightning, and he feels his jaw drop open in surprise. “Oh, you...Junhongie, are you thinking about -- who your soulmate might be?”

Junhong looks down at his knees, picking at a few stray threads on the bed. “I joined the company really young,” he says. “I’ve never kissed anyone before. I think girls are pretty but a little intimidating, but boys are the same. I don’t know. This whole soulmate business is pretty confusing. Like, so _what_ if they’re my soulmate? Will that guarantee we’ll get along? Will that guarantee love? What if it’s just someone with the same name as the one on my wrist? How can I be sure they’re my soulmate if I’ve never -- I don’t know -- been in love? I’ve never been in love -- have you?”

“I’ve been pretty close,” Youngjae mumbles.

“That sounds like a story,” Junhong says brightly, shifting down under the covers and curling up beside him.

“Maybe,” Youngjae says, feeling tired suddenly. “It was just high school stuff.” He yawns, and it might be exaggerated.

“Will you--”

Youngjae rolls over Junhong to flick off the light. “It’s late, and I’d rather not. Let’s just go to bed, okay?”

He can feel Junhong bristle in disappointment against him, but he accedes. “Fine. But one day I want a story. I’ve never even gone to a real high school!”

“Okay,” Youngjae promises, wondering if he’ll be able to keep it.

.

Nothing really changes. They’re in the middle of preparing their next album, so public appearances are low since the group is hiding away in TS’ studios, drafting and sampling and throwing away more than they can produce. Yongguk gets frustrated with the process, and Himchan talks him down. The two oldest often go out with Hyosung and Sunhwa, leaving Youngjae to look after Junhong and Jongup.

Junhong asks a lot of questions. Jongup interrupts with surprisingly astute insights. And Youngjae tells them what he knows.

He turns 21 in public with a company party at a local barbeque restaurant. TS’ girl group, Secret, are there, as well as some of their other lesser-known music duos, but it’s mostly B.A.P and B.A.P’s managers, current and former, and a smattering of stylists and photographers, too. It’s not the party he would have picked, personally, but free food is always good, and after he gets a couple of drinks into him, he’s able to forget conveniently that this is all to celebrate the appearance of a single name on the inside of his wrist that will be with him for the rest of his life.

He turns 21 in private when the clock strikes midnight and it is officially January 24, brushing his teeth in the bathroom when he feels a sharp pain on the inside of his wrist. The toothbrush nearly falls out of his mouth as he yelps, and he swears the lights flicker. He stares at himself in the mirror, foaming at the mouth, and holds the inside of his right wrist up to the light.

There, faded like an old scar near the top of his forearm, is a thin, shimmering single letter about the size of the eraserhead on a pencil: _J_.

He decides to cover it as he goes to bed. Himchan gave him one of the wristbands he’d used for a few days when his tattoo appeared for Sunhwa as they spoke with management about what they were going to do, so Youngjae puts that on before he can see another letter appear. He doesn’t want to know, to keep looking and guessing, though he has a few ideas about the name.

He’s not sure why it hurts, or why it’s taking so long. Yongguk told him his tattoo had felt like someone tapping their fingers along his wrist, and Himchan told him his had been like a quick but loving smack of skin against skin. Their names had appeared almost immediately. Youngjae wonders if the tattoos’ appearances are in any way reflective of the relationships they’re supposed to represent, because if that’s the case, he’s screwed.

Another sharp pain that makes him grit his teeth. He probably won’t get much sleep tonight.

.


	2. Chapter 2

Youngjae does not want to look at his wrist. It’s five in the morning and Junhong is snoring, one leg thrown over both of Youngjae’s in sleep. He counted seven more pricks in his wrist, eight total, before the sharp pains stopped, and now the skin under the band feels hot and irritated.

Soulmates are almost always people you have already met in your life. They might be your childhood friend, that one girl in your class you were always partnered up with on assignments, the boy who accidentally moved into your dorm room instead of his own on the first day of college. Youngjae does not want to look at his wrist, but he’s going to, because he thinks he’s figured it out, and his skin is throbbing and he wants to take the wristband off.

He rolls out from underneath Junhong’s leg and goes into the bathroom, flicking the light on. There, he pushes the toilet seat cover down and sits on top of it, holding his breath and letting it slowly, feeling the flutter of his heart quicken in his chest.

His skin looks so pale in this light. His veins sticks out a bit, like tiny blue roads underneath his surface, and they all seem to lead to his newly-acquired tattoo under the band. Youngjae inhales, exhales, grits his teeth, and then he takes the wristband off and puts it on the counter of the sink.

It is the name he expected and wanted and hoped for, but it also comes with a sinking feeling in his chest. Slowly, he traces the silver letters with the pad of his index finger. They are hot, like they were branded into him. 

.

Youngjae is twelve years old and he doesn’t get what the big deal is about a transfer student. They get them all the time. His school is a pretty good one in the city, heavy on test prep, so transfers are usually students who were big fish in their elementary schools who come in and realize they’ve been thrown into the ocean.

Youngjae is small-time and that’s okay with him. He floats in the middle of the toxic stratosphere of his school and no one really bothers him who isn’t a friend. There are a few exceptions to his stable social life throughout the year, some flare-ups with the kids who can get away with teasing and cheating, but otherwise he’s pretty content with himself. Besides, Youngjae’s going to be a professional gamer in a couple of years, and he’s going to leave this place behind.

Apparently the new transfer kid is from Busan and he’s passably cute, especially with that drawl. It doesn’t matter, because he’s not in Youngjae’s class, so Youngjae figures he’ll have little opportunity to interact with him.

He’s wrong.

Class B shares the gym period with Class C, which coincidentally is also the period Changjo chooses to round up a few of his buddies to show Youngjae personally how he feels about Youngjae not letting him cheat answers off his test yesterday during English. Youngjae isn't sure why Changjo wanted his answers, anyway. It’s not like he’s particularly stellar in that subject.

His friend Jaebum, who usually waits for him in the locker room while they change so they can head out into the field together, is home sick with a weird stomach bug, so Youngjae’s easy pickings.

Well, apparently this is what Changjo thinks.

Youngjae turns around, now changed into his gym shorts and grey t-shirt, and meets with Changjo, Minsoo, and Chanhee, who are all standing with their arms crossed in front of their chests. The locker room is emptying out. Looking back on it now, it’s a bit ridiculous; twelve-year-olds aren’t in any way intimidating, but perhaps for the first time in his school career, Youngjae is scared.

They wouldn’t _do_ anything to him, would they?

He’s scared, but he feigns indifference, lifting his chin a bit and narrowing his eyes at Changjo. “Can I help you?”

Changjo falters for a moment, unsure what to do since he's met with nonchalance instead of fear, and stutters out a reply. “You could have helped me yesterday, with the test,” he says through his teeth.

Youngjae doesn’t really remember what happens next. They talk, and Youngjae keeps on his mask of indifference, and Changjo just gets angrier and angrier. Changjo's scare tactic isn’t working, and Youngjae has no intention of backing down _or_ of letting him even try to cheat off of him, ever.

Which is when the first punch gets thrown.

Youngjae ducks and Minsoo’s fist hits the locker instead, and he howls. When Youngjae opens his eyes to look, Minsoo’s knuckles are bleeding.

“You’ll get in trouble for this,” Minsoo growls, which makes no sense at all, since they were the ones who confronted him and Minsoo’s the one who tried to punch him, but he’s shocked anyone tried to hurt him, at all.

His blood is roaring in his ears and Minsoo’s knuckles are bleeding and Changjo seems to have deflated.

A voice sounds from his left, accented with a drawl. “What are y’all doing?”

Youngjae’s eyes search for the source of the voice. By the end of the lockers there’s a boy standing with his hands on his hips, and Youngjae doesn’t recognize him. He’s got a small face but big features, so exaggerated that they seem pretty.

“Youngjae tried to hurt Minsoo,” Chanhee says, a bit wildly.

The new student frowns. “I dunno,” he says. “It kinda looked like y’all were trying to get this guy to let you cheat off him, and then it kinda looked like you were gonna punch him if he didn’t. Which -- I mean -- kids got in trouble for that in my old school.” He shrugs.

“Come on,” Changjo says, pulling at Minsoo and Chanhee’s clothes. “Let’s get out of here. Daehyun’s not going to say anything, are you?” He glares at the new kid, Daehyun, as they’re walking out, sulking.

Youngjae and Daehyun watch them go. When they are gone, Daehyun turns back to Youngjae and walks toward him, holding out a hand. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Youngjae says. “I’m fine. I had it under control.”

“Yeah,” Daehyun says, grinning. “I figured. They’re kinda dumb for messin’ with you.”

Youngjae blinks at him, leaning against the lockers still. His knees feel like jelly.

Daehyun continues, “I mean, I’m sure you could have taken them down one by one but I didn’t want anyone else to get hurt. I’d be a witness! They’d blame me for not stopping you! I don’t want that on my hands.”

Youngjae steps forward, and takes his hand. It’s slightly smaller than his own, with slim fingers and warm, smooth skin. They shake.

“I’m Jung Daehyun,” Daehyun says, still grinning, showing all his teeth as his eyes crinkle up into crescents. “Class C. I just moved here from Busan.”

“Yoo Youngjae,” Youngjae says. “Class B.”

“Ready to go out there, or do you need a moment?”

“Nah, let’s go.”

They walk out onto the field, and Daehyun doesn’t let go of his hand.

.

It’s seven in the morning when Seokgu calls, his voice raspy on the phone. The other boys are up -- Youngjae can hear Himchan and Yongguk in the living room, puttering around and likely drinking coffee and waiting for everyone else to be ready. Junhong’s in the shower now, so they’re only waiting on him before they can all leave for the photoshoot for the jacket of their new album.

Youngjae has been ready since 5:30 a.m. He put on Himchan’s wristband and got back into bed, catching up on various blogs on his laptop until the alarm sounded in one of the other rooms.

“So,” Manager Kang says, “What’s the verdict? Who’s on your wrist?”

The name won’t come out from between Youngjae’s lips, even though he tries. He hasn’t said this name in a very long time.

“Can you at least tell me,” Seokgu continues when it becomes apparent Youngjae won’t answer, “if it’s a boy or a girl?”

“A boy,” Youngjae whispers, feeling a weight lift from his chest. “It’s a boy.”

Seokgu exhales noisily on the other end. “Idol?”

“No,” Youngjae says.

“A friend, then,” Seokgu infers. “Right?”

Youngjae closes his eyes and presses his phone closer to his ear. “Yeah, we were friends.”

“So what do you want to do?” Kang asks him.

The question is just a formality. Youngjae knows that ultimately the company will decide how they handle the reveal of Youngjae’s soulmate, and the follow up after. He can protect the name on his wrist as much as he wants and is able to, but once it’s public there’s no taking it back. His soulmate will be a part of his idol image.

“Can you give me a few days to decide?” Youngjae asks. “I need to figure a few things out. In private.”

“Sure,” Kang agrees readily. “Of course. Take all the time you want. I’ll have to tell management it’s a boy, though.”

“I know,” Youngjae says, frowning. “Sooner or later, they were going to find out.”

“Hey,” Kang says. “Think of this as a good thing. You don’t have to hide it anymore, right? That’s good.”

He’s right. That _is_ good. Kang just never had to think about why Youngjae wanted to hide it in the first place.

.

Youngjae is fifteen and Daehyun is his best friend. Sometime in the past three years, Youngjae decided he wanted to become a singer, and not a professional gamer. He would keep the other career in his back pocket, just in case.

They are in the same class now, but the teachers have assigned them to separate seats on opposite ends of the room since week two of the start of the year because they can’t seem to focus on anything but each other when they’re together. Still, they meet eyes over the heads of the other students when the teacher’s back is turned, silently communicating with each other their boredom or disgust or intrigue throughout lessons.

They have a telepathic link with each other; at least, that’s what their friends say. They share lunches, finish each other’s sentences, and link fingers with the other by accident more often than the closest of friends should, and Youngjae thinks he is in love.

It happened gradually, like his body was acclimatizing itself to the feeling, like stepping into the cool waters of a pool until he couldn’t feel the difference, and then he was under water, and the water is Daehyun.

The water is love.

Whatever it is, Youngjae is drowning.

This whatever-feeling presses down on him, heavy on all sides, and sucks the air out of his lungs. He might be in love, and he is suffocating because of it, stifled in his interactions with his friend who probably doesn’t feel the same way, stifled because he is scared to fall in love with someone who might not be his soulmate.

“Hey,” Daehyun says, hovering by Youngjae’s desk. The dismissal bell just rang. “You ready to go?”

Youngjae looks up at Daehyun, a mix of worry and excitement in his eyes. “I don’t know -- are you sure about this?”

“C’mon, I already signed us up!” Daehyun says. “It’s just a small audition. Think of it as practice. Don’t you want to be a singer?” He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, hands around the straps of his backpack over his shoulders.

“I do,” Youngjae says. “But what about _hagwon_? We’ve got a test at the end of the week. Shouldn’t we study? You haven’t been--”

Daehyun rolls his eyes and breathes out noisily between his lips. “We talked about this! We’ll study; we’ll study _so much_ after the audition. I’ll come over and we’ll stay up all night studying. But what if this is your chance? Our chance? Our big break for stardom.”

Light dances in Daehyun’s eyes and Youngjae’s heart clenches. Daehyun could probably convince him to do anything, looking like that.

“Where is it again?” Youngjae asks, nervous both about Daehyun and about the audition, now. Daehyun’s been talking about it for the past two weeks but all Youngjae could think about during that time was how his friend had gone through all the trouble on his behalf of seeking out the audition and signing them both up for it.

Music is Daehyun’s dream, too, Youngjae reminds himself. He didn’t do all of it solely for Youngjae.

Daehyun tells him where it is, and then continues, “We need to hurry and catch the train, if we want to make it. They won’t like it if we’re late.” He takes Youngjae’s hand and pulls him to stand, already leading him to the door and down the hall and gathering speed.

“Youngjae, let’s run for it!” he demands excitedly.

They run.

They both completely bungle their auditions, nerves all tangled up from stage fright, but it’s okay. They laugh about it over dinner at a food cart down the street and then sneak into the movies instead of going back to Youngjae’s to study, as promised.

“There will be more auditions,” Daehyun assures him. “Youngjae, you’ll be a star.”

Youngjae is sixteen when he kisses his best friend for the first time. They arrived at the idea mutually. If asked about it later, neither will accept the responsibility of being the first to suggest it. Physically, it’s a mediocre kiss, but for Youngjae it cements his feelings for Daehyun as real, and he isn’t ready to sink from the weight of the revelation tied around his ankles.

The next day, he leaves to audition for a company that will release him from his contract within the first three months claiming he is “distracted” and “unmotivated”, and then he is picked up by TS Entertainment, the small company he’d auditioned for with Daehyun over a year ago. They see his potential now. He is no longer distracted, because he doesn’t want to risk another failure. It’s been months and he hasn’t called Daehyun once, and he’s ignored all the other times Daehyun tried ringing him.

Youngjae knows it’s over before it could ever really start when Daehyun stops trying.

.


	3. Chapter 3

It’s been five years since Youngjae has spoken to Daehyun, a little over four since Youngjae packed his bags and moved into company dorms to become a full-time trainee, and two since he debuted with B.A.P.

Youngjae has learned a lot about himself in all the time that’s passed. He’s pushed his own physical limits and challenged his creativity, gaining a confidence that can only be had with experience. He’s hit so many walls in this industry and overcome almost all of them: the vocal coach who said he’d never be able to hit that note, the dance instructor who told him he needed more discipline, stylists who complained he wasn’t thin enough, sharp enough, tall enough. He took all the pieces of himself other people didn’t like and made them some of his best attributes, until they couldn’t deny how much he had matured and grown and improved.

All of this and still he thinks of Daehyun and freezes up, because there’s just this one part of him he can’t fix, and now everyone’s going to see it.

Youngjae wears the wristband during the photoshoot. The photography directors will be able to use the pictures where the band is not visible for the album jacket or else have the band edited out, like the tattoo doesn't exist at all. He dodges questions about the name on his wrist until the shoot is over, and they all pile into the van together and Youngjae promptly falls asleep against Junhong’s shoulder, exhausted.

He wakes up in the van when they’re at their dorms, Junhong’s bright eyes in front of his face and a suspicious rose blush on his cheeks. “We’re home, hyung,” is all Junhong says before they all clamber out.

.

The heat and humidity from his shower clings to his skin and fogs up the mirrors in the bathroom, but it is a welcome reprieve from the cold weather outside. Youngjae rubs the heel of his palm over the mirror and it squeaks unpleasantly as his face comes into view.

His skin looks dewy, soft. It’s one of his strong points. When fans talk about what they like about him, it’s almost always one of three things: his husky voice, his pretty shoulders, or his flawless skin. He hasn’t always looked like this. Youngjae cracks a smile into the mirror, remembering how his hair had been floppy and thick and unstyled when he was in high school. It’s amazing what a good haircut and stylish wardrobe can do.

His mind goes back to Daehyun, and he looks at his wrist. There, _Jung Daehyun_ gleams up at him, perfectly shaped and silver. Somehow, he’d known it would be him. He’s always known it would be him.

He wonders what Daehyun looks like, now, if he’s gotten himself a good wardrobe and haircut like Youngjae, if he still cares about things like that. They are still connected through various social media sites, but Youngjae has made it habit of  _not_ looking at his updates. He's made the mistake of looking him up a few times, and found it only makes him think about how he could have been there with him as Daehyun shared his experiences with the void-like public of the internet, if he’d chosen differently.

Still, maybe later, he’ll look. Just for one picture, just to see what he’s missing out on.

The towel hangs heavy around his shoulders. Youngjae traces Daehyun’s name one more time, telling himself he’s imagining how it’s warming up underneath his touch, and is hit with the realization that Daehyun might not have _Youngjae’s_ name on _his_ wrist. The thought twists his stomach painfully, and he nearly doubles over with it.

After all, it makes sense. Daehyun’s birthday is half a year before Youngjae’s; Daehyun turned twenty-one _months_ ago, and there has been nothing from him.

No texts or calls or messages. Youngjae almost wants to backtrack all the messages on his phone, just to make sure he didn’t miss one around last June from Daehyun.

 _hey_ , the message would start, in Daehyun’s sheepish voice, _so i know it’s been forever but there’s something i gotta tell you…_

Youngjae lets his head hang between his shoulders as he leans against the counter, elbows locked. Would he even know how to respond? What would happen from there? After all this time, would they be able to--

A series of sharp knocks on the door jolts him out of that train of thought.

“Hyung,” Junhong’s whine comes from the other side. “I’ve really got to pee.”

Youngjae shakes his head, as though to clear his thoughts further. “Sorry, Junhong. I’ll be right out.”

“Are you okay?” Junhong asks hesitantly.

“Yeah, I’ll be right out,” Youngjae repeats. Hastily, he towels off and slaps some lotion onto his skin before pulling on a pair of boxers and a long-sleeved t-shirt to go to sleep in. When he opens the door, a chill creeps into the room immediately, raising the hairs on his legs as Junhong brushes past him to get to the toilet. “Couldn’t wait one more second,” Youngjae admonishes under his breath.

Junhong chuckles. “Close the door behind you, hyung.”

.

Youngjae jerks when the bed dips, but of course it’s only Junhong, fresh from the shower. He quickly sets the screen of his phone to home but feels himself blush when Junhong sits down right next to him against the headboard, smelling like citrus, clean and refreshing, his wet hair dripping water onto Youngjae’s shoulder.

“What were you looking at?” Junhong asks.

“Nothing,” Youngjae says.

“Is it your soulmate?” Junhong asks next, pressing close. “Was it -- Dae...hyun?”

Youngjae’s mouth goes dry, mind whirring with ideas about how Junhong knew. Is he so easy to read? But Junhong looks down, hangdog, and confesses:

“I looked.”

“What?” Youngjae says in a quick exhale.

“When you were sleeping in the van,” Junhong says, cheeks darkening. “I took a peek. I didn’t tell anyone else, I swear. I just -- really wanted to know. I’m sorry.”

Youngjae is silent for a moment before he realizes he isn’t angry at all. In fact, he feels like Junhong lifted a boulder he didn’t realize was bearing down on his chest. “It’s okay,” he says truthfully. “I mean, I probably would have told you first, anyway.”

“Yeah?” Junhong’s eyes lift at the corners at that, and he perks up, leaning into Youngjae’s space again.

“Yeah,” Youngjae says.

“Can I see what he looks like?”

Youngjae hesitates, chewing on his bottom lip, but slowly takes out his phone again. He brings up one of Daehyun’s pages, scrolling through all the images there. Junhong’s heavy against his side as they both look at the small screen.

“It’s just pictures of food,” Junhong says. “Jesus, that’s a lot of cake.”

“He has a sweet tooth,” Youngjae defends. “Did when we were younger, too. Let me just find one...here.” Youngjae taps the thumbnail and the full picture loads on his screen. It’s a group shot taken outside of a restaurant. Daehyun stands with three other guys hanging near the edge of the frame, ears sticking out from under a black beanie, arms slung casually around his buddies' shoulders and a big smile across his face. His wardrobe hasn’t advanced quite as far as Youngjae’s has, but he still looks good, boyish and excited and perfectly adjusted to Youngjae’s absence in his life.

“Oh,” Junhong says, eyes trained on the picture. Youngjae doesn’t notice when Junhong looks at him, too. “He’s cute. Is he the almost-love guy? From high school?”

Youngjae’s heart starts to pick up pace, pumping the blood faster through his veins as he remembers all at once every time Daehyun took his hand and ran -- to _hagwon_ , to the convenience store, to the bus stop, wherever. They were always connected. “Yeah.”

“Was he in love with you?”

“I don’t know, Junhong,” Youngjae says.

“What happened between you two?”

“What do you mean?” Youngjae turns to look at Junhong now, surprised when he sees the concern in the younger boy’s face, his lips turned down into a frown.

“You look at him like you want to apologize,” Junhong whispers.

“If I ever get the chance,” Youngjae says, “I will.”

Junhong is sitting very close to him, their thighs pressed together over the mattress. He feels Junhong take his hand and then turn it over, exposing his wrist. The pad of Junhong’s finger over the tattoo of Daehyun’s name makes him shiver. “Aren’t you going to see him again? He’s your soulmate.”

“What if I’m not his?” Youngjae asks aloud, his voice higher than he thought it would be. “What if we’re not a match?”

Junhong’s face ducks and then his lips are on Youngjae’s, soft and dry and hot. The kiss is fleeting -- Youngjae doesn’t even have enough time to close his eyes to savor it -- and Junhong pulls away quickly.

“What was that for?”

“I’ve never kissed anyone before,” Junhong mumbles. “I wanted to see what it would feel like, and I really wanted to kiss you right then. I know you’ve got a different name on your wrist, and I’m okay with that -- I think. I just -- wanted to try. Once.” Junhong’s mouth clamps shut, and Youngjae thinks that’s the end of it, but then Junhong’s cheeks turn bright red and he rushes through his words like he’s afraid they will dry up otherwise. “I think -- I think it’d be nice if my soulmate was someone like you, hyung.”

“Oh, Junhong,” Youngjae sighs, pity and sympathy welling up inside of him, but Junhong shakes his head, wanting none of it.

“I think Daehyun is really lucky you’re the one, and I think you should reach out to him, and let him know.”

They go to bed that night curled around each other, comfortable. Youngjae feels like the lucky one.

“Thank you,” Youngjae says into Junhong’s hair.

Junhong rubs his face into his chest and says nothing.

.


	4. Chapter 4

He should never have waited, never have assumed -- What made him think he’d have any control over the situation, when so many other idols have failed in the same way? It’s only been three days since his birthday. He’s worn his wristband religiously and has been shuttled back and forth to two photoshoots, and yet --

Junhong stands with his hands behind his back, biting his lips, looking down at his feet, like a student who’s been called to the principal’s office. He’d come in from the living room as everyone was settling into bed, wordlessly handing Youngjae his iPad and waiting as Youngjae read the heading of the blog article on the screen.

_Local University Student Jung Daehyun is B.A.P Youngjae’s Soulmate!_

Junhong shuffles his weight back and forth as Youngjae reads, feeling his knees buckle underneath him as he drops to a seat on the bed.

_Our lovely-shoulders-prince Yoo Youngjae turned 21 on January 24! Congratulations, B.A.P Youngjae. We look forward to the inevitable growth of your charisma this year and are ready to support you in all of your and your team’s efforts!_

_But, readers, aren’t you curious? What is the thing that happens when anyone turns 21? Of course, that person’s soulmate is revealed on their wrist! Youngjae has been wearing a cute wristband to keep his soulmate secret, but we have the inside scoop!_

Youngjae scrolls up to look at the address of the blog. It’s not very professional at all, but the way the internet works, he’s sure this information will be everywhere in just a couple of hours.

“How did they find out?” Youngjae whispers, eyes rapidly scanning the rest of the article’s contents.

Junhong’s shoulders slump. “I don’t know -- you were really careful. There’s a picture at the bottom. It’s blurry but it looks like someone took it while you and Himchan-hyung went out for coffee.”

“Does Kang know?” Youngjae asks.

“Ah,” Junhong says. “I showed Yongguk-hyung first. Sorry -- I just thought -- he would be the one to tell Kang, right?”

“You’re right, you’re right,” Youngjae says, but he doesn’t feel any better about it. He’d been building up the courage to reach out to Daehyun after what Junhong said to him, but all that courage crumbles into pieces as he continues to read the article. He hadn’t wanted anyone -- most of all Daehyun -- to find out this way. Now anything the company does will be in reaction to this article and the ones following it, and it will be harder to keep things from blowing up.

_Youngjae is the third member of B.A.P to turn 21. Both Yongguk-sshi and Himchan-sshi have already successfully matched up with their soulmates and seem to be in perfect relationships! We hope Youngjae will find himself in the same situation, even though Jung Daehyun is a boy. Hmm, we wonder how TS Entertainment feels about this?_

_We were curious about this Jung Daehyun who is Youngjae’s soulmate, so we authors did a little digging and found out about him for you!_

_Jung Daehyun is a local university student in Seoul who is studying music. Please look at the picture we included of him for you! Isn’t he cute? His SNS accounts are all full of food and music. It seems like he would like dates in nice restaurants or at concerts, right? We ran into him at a cafe near his university and were excited to speak about Youngjae with him, but he politely declined with, “No comment.”_

_Maybe he is a man of few words? Readers, we don’t know enough about him yet to determine if he is a good match for our Youngjae, but we will keep investigating and let you know! Thank you!_

“Stalking,” Youngjae says after finishing the article, his stomach all twisted up in horror. “They’re talking about stalking him.”

“Maybe it won’t be that bad?” Junhong offers.

Youngjae flops over onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Fans of his have approached Daehyun asking about him. Asking about whether or not they were soulmates and how he felt about it, and Daehyun had responded, “No comment.”

He should have reached out sooner. He should have been the one to tell Daehyun personally. Now, it seems like Youngjae was hiding this from him, and he can only imagine the anger and betrayal that Daehyun might be feeling.

He lets himself wallow for a moment, closes his eyes, and then rolls over onto his belly to reach for his phone on the nightstand.

“What are you doing?” Junhong asks.

“What I should have done when I knew: calling Daehyun,” Youngjae says. He brings up his contact list and hovers over Daehyun’s name. Gritting his teeth, he presses down on the contact, and his phone dials Daehyun’s number.

“Wait,” Junhong says. “Wait. Shouldn’t we see what Kang and TS want to do? Maybe they’ll have a plan--”

“Even if they have a plan,” Youngjae says, “I should still tell him, right?”

The phone rings and rings.

“I suppose, but--”

“ _Hello?_ ” A girl’s voice.

Youngjae’s face drops, and Junhong quiets.

“Hi, I was looking for Jung Daehyun?”

“Who?”

“Jung Daehyun,” Youngjae repeats.

“Oh...he doesn’t have this number anymore.”

“Ah, I see. Sorry to bother you then.” Of course. It’s been five years. Daehyun’s probably changed a lot of his contact information by now. He smashes his face into the mattress, groaning.

He’s about to hang up when the girl says, “He gave me the number he’s using now. I can give it to you?”

Youngjae thanks her eagerly and copies the new number down on Junhong’s iPad. He hangs up, and then smashes his face into the mattress again. “I lost my momentum,” he complains, the initial adrenaline of contacting Daehyun for the first time in so long leaving him swiftly and draining him of energy.

“So we’ll just have to follow the plan, right? Whatever it is. I’m sure it’ll be fine. It’ll work out, Youngjae.”

Just as Junhong finishes speaking, his phone begins to buzz. Youngjae feels irrational hope bubble up in his chest, his eyes snapping to the screen -- maybe the girl passed his number along to Daehyun and now he’s calling back -- but sees it’s only Manager Kang.

“Hey, hyung,” he answers miserably.

“Local University Student Jung Daehyun,” Kang parrots.

“Yeah.”

“Have you tried to contact him?”

“His number changed.”

“Good,” Kang says, heedless for now of Youngjae’s misery. “Don’t try again. Don’t contact him on any SNS accounts. That stuff is easy to trace and editable. We’re going to manage this, Youngjae, but you have to work with us, okay?”

“I should talk to him--”

“The higher-ups are going to have someone reach out to him to explain his options--”

“Wait, what? What does that mean?” Youngjae props himself up onto his elbows, giving Junhong a fleeting, angered glance. Junhong backs away when Youngjae shoos him with a hand and out the door, understanding his need for privacy and shutting the door behind him.

“We want to know if he’ll work with us or against us,” Kang says. “This isn’t just _your_ image, Youngjae. It’s the group’s. It’s the company’s.”

“I just mean, won’t it be better if he hears it from me?”

Kang sighs. In a moment he becomes the caring manager Youngjae has always known. “I’m sorry, Youngjae. I know you want to talk to him. It’s out of my hands. They’ve already had someone reach out. I’ll let you know how the conversation goes as soon as I know.”

A stuffy moment of silence. Youngjae wishes suddenly that he’d never auditioned that day five years ago, never been set on this path to idolhood. At least then he’d be in control of his own life. The thought leaves him as soon as it had come. Despite everything, he’s doing something he loves, and that’s enough.

“But he’s _my_ soulmate,” Youngjae says, a last appeal for Kang’s sympathies, but it doesn’t work.

His manager sighs again. He says, “I’m sorry. I’ll be in touch. Don’t -- don’t reach out to him yet, okay?”

.

Youngjae thinks about it the whole night, unable to sleep properly, even with Junhong snoring next to him. He doesn’t want to go against company wishes, but there’s an itch in his brain that needs to be scratched. Has he forever ruined any chance he had to fix his and Daehyun’s relationship? Does Daehyun hate him? Will he be trapped in a loveless relationship only to pretend everything is fine for public consumption? (Admittedly, this last thought might be spurred on by a drama Youngjae is currently following).

He needs to know, from Daehyun himself. It’s four o’clock in the morning but his phone is right in his hand, the screen a beacon of light in the darkness of the room. Kang had said not to reach out on SNS, but how would he know, if Youngjae were to reach out privately? Unless Daehyun saves the interaction as an image and manipulates it for whatever end the company is afraid he’s trying to achieve -- which Youngjae can’t imagine him doing -- the company won’t know, right?

Satisfied with his internal logic, Youngjae brings up his texting app and types a quick message before he can lose his conviction, hitting send.

_hey daehyun. it’s me youngjae. can we talk?_

A couple of long seconds pass. Youngjae’s breath catches in his throat when the message changes from _unread_ to _read_.

Even though he waits for many minutes after, there is no response.

He sleeps fitfully, and only for a couple of hours. Youngjae becomes aware of the sun rising, its rays seeping through the slotted blinds covering the windows, just as his phone buzzes with an incoming message. In a second he is awake, slapping his hand over his phone to bring it close to his face to examine it.

His message is still there: _hey daehyun. it’s me youngjae. can we talk?_

_hey_ , Daehyun has sent.

Youngjae waits with bated breath. A minute passes, and then his phone buzzes again.

_how have you been?_

.


	5. Chapter 5

There is no opening of the floodgates, no miraculous reunion, simply because Youngjae texted Daehyun. Youngjae doesn’t really have his phone with him during the day because of his schedule, and to his disappointment, Daehyun doesn’t seem to want to talk, a jarring thought when Youngjae remembers how Daehyun used to want to blabber on about every little thing.

He reminds himself, though, that he is remembering the Daehyun he knew five years ago.

Their conversation is bare over the morning; Youngjae might as well be talking to a brick wall.

Kang briefs them on the drive over to the company’s building about the situation Youngjae has found himself in, advising everyone to proceed with business as usual as the company decides how to roll out press and statements about Youngjae’s soulmate. Kang doesn’t think it will be a problem; Daehyun has already agreed that he will not do anything that could affect the image and reputation of TS Entertainment, its artists, and especially Youngjae, negatively.

A round of expected sympathies from his team members follows. Youngjae accepts this all gracefully. What he really wants to do is check his phone without worrying anyone is watching, to see if Daehyun has responded.

When they get to the building, Youngjae reluctantly relinquishes his phone to the cubby outside of the dance studio after checking for messages. There’s nothing.

The team is practicing for most of the day, holed up in one of TS’ studios with a monitoring camera so they can review their dances and rework, review and rework, until their muscles are shaking and the room is hot from their breaths, moisture condensing on the mirrors. Practicing leaves Youngjae with little room in his mind to think about Daehyun, which is probably a good thing. Eventually Yongguk declares official practice to be over, and the group splits. Yongguk moves into a recording booth, taking Himchan with him, and Jongup and Junhong stay in the dance studio when Kang pokes his head in through the door, pointing at Youngjae.

“Me?” Youngjae asks, just to make sure. Kang nods, and Youngjae shakes his head to get his sweaty bangs out of his face before jogging over. His manager lets the door shut behind them, and Youngjae grabs his phone before following him down the hall.

There are still no messages from Daehyun. Their last correspondence is:

_daehyun: how have you been?_

_youngjae: okay. busy :) what about you?_

_daehyun: same_

_youngjae: i wanted to talk to you about...everything that’s going on. can you talk?_

_daehyun: sorry i’m in class all day and then i’ve got work_

Youngjae tries not to dwell on it. It’s good that they’re talking at all, right?

Kang leads him up a flight of stairs to a floor with more individual practice rooms, and Youngjae feels his adrenaline start to pick up in anticipation. The implication of the individual practice rooms is that Kang wants to have a private conversation, and Youngjae is fairly certain he knows just what his manager wants to talk about.

They enter one of the narrow rooms; Youngjae needs to push the door closed because the tiny space is like a pressure trap. The room is barely large enough to contain an upright piano, a music stand, and a couple of extra stools. Kang takes the piano bench and Youngjae, remembering the hours he’s spent in rooms like this with the group practicing their harmonies, takes one of the stools by the wall.

“So,” Kang begins, leaning forward ever so slightly, “how have you been?”

It’s the same question Daehyun asked him, but Youngjae suddenly finds himself brimming with the need to express himself, to voice what it is he's been feeling over the past few days, and the words spill over.

“Tired,” he says. “Frustrated. I know it’s not your fault, but I’m...upset things have turned out this way. Like I’m not in control of my own life. I mean -- I’m an idol, I know, so there are always going to be things I can’t control, but I thought -- I thought _this_ , at least, I would be -- I just wanted this to be left alone.”

“Looking back on it,” Kang says, “maybe I should have pushed you to reach out to Daehyun as soon as you found out. Maybe we could have prevented all the attention, but what’s done is done. I’m sorry it turned out this way. We -- the company, I mean, wants to protect your image, and sometimes that means we don’t have your best interests at heart.” He bites his lips after, like he’s unsure how to continue. Youngjae hardly ever sees his manager biting his lips or expressing any nervous tic at all.

“It’s what really sucks about this industry,” Kang says finally. “I don’t like seeing you like this -- frustrated and hurt -- but at the same time, I’m TS staff.”

“I’m not blaming you,” Youngjae says, furrowing his eyebrows.

“I know. I just needed to say that, because I’m going to ask you to -- okay. Let me just update you, first.” Kang rearranges himself on the bench into a more comfortable position, and Youngjae slouches on the stool.

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Kang repeats. “So we spoke to Daehyun -- and thank you for not contacting him -- who, as I shared on the way over, is willing to work with us and not against us. We advised that he stay low and as under the radar as possible. It helps him _and_ it helps you, and he agreed. Poor guy just wants to be able to study, you know?” Kang laughs nervously when Youngjae frowns at that, although he quickly gets back on track. “Anyway, he said he will support whatever PR plan the company puts in place because he doesn’t want any trouble. Which brings me to the next thing.”

Youngjae steels himself for it, knowing Kang’s dramatic pause means ‘the next thing’ might be something he won’t particularly enjoy. What’s important is that Daehyun isn’t angry. Or, he doesn’t seem angry. Youngjae latches onto that, and it plants a seed of hope in his chest that things are going to be all right.

“We’re putting you and Himchan on air. The radio segment will be scripted, so don’t worry about that. But it will be a good opportunity for you both to promote the upcoming album and for you to talk about Daehyun.” Kang pauses, eyes flickering up above Youngjae’s head and then back down. He says, “A lot of the posts following the release of that article have been speculating how you’ve been hiding your sexual orientation. To be honest, some people are angry. Some people are supportive. We want to use the show to put out a controlled statement: You’re still B.A.P’s Youngjae.”

“I don’t see why I should have to -- of _course_ I’m still Youngjae. It’s not like the moment I turned 21 I was replaced by an alien,” Youngjae begins angrily, opposed to the idea on principle, even though the logical part of his brain sees the reasoning and merit behind it. “It shouldn’t matter why or what I am as long as we’re making good music, right? It shouldn’t--”

“Youngjae,” Kang interrupts gently. “It shouldn’t, but it does.”

Youngjae wants to pound on all the keys on the piano behind Kang, wants to be surrounded by the discord he feels within himself. He’s used to feeling micromanaged, but this is something bigger, something more important than the way his voice sounds or the way his face looks in a certain light. Instead of launching himself at the instrument, he curls his fingernails into his palms, making his fists as tight as possible.

“You’re an idol,” Kang says. “You signed up for this.”

“I didn’t sign up for this,” Youngjae retorts. “But I’ll do the radio show. I’ll do it because _I_ want to. Because there are things I think need to be said.”

“This script--”

“Don’t worry,” Youngjae says. “I won’t stray too far from the script.”

Kang sits back, a hint of a smile of his face. Youngjae feels the heat of his anger slowly trickle out of him, but his conviction does not follow it. His manager says, “You always were pretty stubborn. There aren’t really sides to this issue, but if there were, I’d try to be on yours.”

“I know,” Youngjae says cheekily. “I don’t want you to lose your job over me.”

Kang laughs. “Maybe _because_ of you, then.”

.

Junhong and Jongup still have not returned from the studio. It’s good, Youngjae thinks. Over just the past few days, the two youngest in the group seem to have gotten closer, and it breaks Youngjae’s heart to think about the crush that had come to light over all this soulmate stuff. Youngjae isn’t too much older than Junhong, but there’s something about the youngest on the team that is so innocent and pure and good. He hopes his next crush is more deserving of him.

 _i’m going on starry night,_ Youngjae sends Daehyun that evening, bundled up in bed and hair still wet from his shower, the glow of the phone in front of his face. The message changes from _unread_ to _read_ instantly.

_daehyun: cool?_

Youngjae tries to keep from grinning at the quick reply but is unable to stop it from spreading across his face.

_youngjae: they want me to go on the radio. to talk about you, and us, and stuff. i’m going with himchan._

_daehyun: don’t tell any embarrassing stories : <_

_youngjae: i won’t. they’ve got a script already in the works. will you listen?_

_daehyun: when are you on_

_youngjae: sunday. 8pm._

There’s no response for a while. Youngjae almost drops off to sleep before the buzz of his phone on his chest wakes him up again.

_daehyun: can’t promise anything, but maybe. aren’t you breaking the rules talking to me? or is this convo being watched?_

_youngjae: okay. of course not. this is private. :(_

Another long pause, but this time Youngjae is wide awake.

_daehyun: i dunno. sorry._

_youngjae: please just listen to the radio show, okay? sunday 8pm. i miss you._

Youngjae hesitates before sending. He reads over the message and erases _i miss you_. The text changes from _unread_ to _read_ , but Daehyun is quiet for the rest of the night.

.


	6. Chapter 6

“Are you sure about this?” Himchan, his voice barely above a whisper, asks him on the van ride over to the radio station where they will be filming and broadcasting the show. “Isn’t it a bit...rash?”

“I’m sure,” Youngjae says with a little nod. “I already talked it over with my family, too.”

They go over a pothole and bounce in their seats. Kang looks into the rearview mirror at them. “Sorry,” he says, unaware of their conversation.

Himchan says, “The script already covers some of the things you want to talk about--”

“The script is an apology,” Youngjae says. “And it’s insincere. I just want this to come from me. I’m telling you because I didn’t want to throw you under the bus and surprise you with it on air.”

“Gee,” Himchan huffs, sitting back with a glare. “Thanks.”

Himchan stares out the window for a bit as Youngjae works himself up for the show, going over the phrases he wants to say, the ones that aren’t on their script for the evening.

“I get it,” Himchan says. “So I won’t say anything to Kang or the others.”

Youngjae blinks, coming out of the self-induced daze that always takes over him right before a performance. “You get it?”

“It has to start somewhere,” Himchan says, before pulling the bill of his cap low over his eyes and leaning back in his seat. “I’m taking a nap, now. And -- thanks for warning me. I would have supported you, anyway.”

Youngjae smiles, even though Himchan can’t see it. He settles back into his own seat and meets Kang’s eyes again the mirror.

“What are you kids talking about?” their manager asks, imitating Youngjae’s grin.

“Nothing,” Youngjae says.

.

The bell chimes, signaling the start of the show. Younha, prettier in person, sits across from Youngjae and Himchan.

“You ready?” she asks, personable and cheery. They nod, and the sign above the door changes to _ON AIR_.

“Good evening everyone, welcome to Younha’s Starry Night Radio!” She presses a key for automated cheer, and Youngjae and Himchan join in. “Wow, who were those voices you just heard? Of course, it’s B.A.P’s Youngjae and Himchan! Youngjae-sshi and Himchan-sshi, please introduce yourselves.”

To the introductory background music, they do the usual group greeting, and Younha cheers again. Youngjae tries to focus on the content, where they are in the script, but his mind keeps jumping around and ahead. He and Himchan promote the title track off their upcoming mini-album release, and then Younha plays it. The show progresses smoothly. While their song is playing, Youngjae checks his phone briefly. He texted Daehyun a reminder to tune in, but he didn't receive anything in response, even though the message has been marked as read.

He hopes Daehyun is listening.

“Youngjae-sshi?”

Younha’s clear voice cuts through his thoughts and Himchan’s elbow into his ribs makes him focus. “Ah, yes?”

Younha frowns, a tiny downturn of her lips, but she regains traction quickly. “Youngjae-sshi, you have recently turned 21, isn’t that right?” she asks, and it’s clear from her tone that this is the second time she’s had to phrase the question. Youngjae swallows, his mouth dry. He needs to be more present than he is currently. He’s been thinking all night about this next segment, thinking about what he’s going to say, and what he _wants_ to say.

He’s ready for this segment.

“That’s right,” Youngjae says, and the flow of the show shifts back into place.

Himchan laughs and claps his shoulder. “Youngjae is finally 21, yes.”

“Did you have a celebration?”

“Just a small one with the company,” Youngjae says. “TS’ CEO took us out for meat! Thank you, sir. We ate very well that night.”

“Ah, I see. And how is it, being 21?”

“Not too different from being 20,” Youngjae admits with a shrug.

“I think when you're over 25 is when you start to feel the difference,” Himchan offers.

“Himchan-sshi,” Younha starts playfully, a warning in her words.

Himchan laughs again. “Ah, is that not the case? Either way, I’m looking forward to it.”

“Youngjae-sshi, when you turned 21 something special happened, didn’t it?” Younha asks next.

Youngjae swivels a bit in his chair, playing with the strings of his hoodie before answering, a coy smile on his lips for the camera. “Yes. Doesn’t it happen to everyone when they turn 21?”

“You’re right, of course. Fans really look forward to hearing about their idols’ soulmates when their idols turn 21. They are excited that their idols will be happy with someone who is meant for them. Often, it becomes a big, fantastic event in the spotlight! But Youngjae-sshi, you seemed so mysterious about yours…”

Younha looks up from her script, and they meet eyes over the table that separates them. In that moment, Youngjae wonders how much of the script came from her, if she had any hand in editing it, if the questions she wanted to ask had been slashed or crumbled up or worse. He wonders if there are questions _in_ the script now she doesn’t want to ask at all. She looks sympathetic.

“Yes,” Youngjae laughs. “I hoped to keep it a secret. But I guess the secret got out.”

“Can you tell us a little bit about your soulmate Jung Daehyun?”

“He’s a childhood friend,” Youngjae reads aloud off the script, “and I’m eager to get in touch with him.”

“It must be nice to have a soulmate who is your childhood friend.” Youngjae makes a noncommittal sound. Younha continues, “You must have a lot of memories. Can you share with us one?”

Behind the table and out of sight from the cameras, Himchan pats Youngjae’s thigh and even gives it an encouraging squeeze.

Youngjae begins his story, remembering the event clearly. He'd rehearsed this part with Himchan in the car. “When we were in middle school, the school was having a talent show. It was a new thing, and a lot of the students were hesitant about it. But not Daehyun. You see, we both liked to sing. I mean, I became an idol! We shared a similar dream, and when he found out about the talent show, he signed us up right away. He didn’t even ask! He was always a bit like that, and I got used to it quickly. Signing us up for events. Making me try new things. Anyway, we practiced a lot for the show together, and sang a duet on a small stage. I remember because some of our classmates gave us flowers after, and Daehyun was jealous that I got more flowers than he did.”

“Is he the jealous type?”

“Hard to say,” Youngjae offers magnanimously.

Younha exhales audibly, amused. “Heu, you speak well of him.”

“He was my best friend,” Youngjae says, serious. “During my hardest years.”

“Were you surprised when you saw his name on your wrist?”

A pause. Here is where Youngjae is supposed to say, “Yes. He was a surprise. I had never thought about men like that before. Maybe he is an exception,” painting their potential relationship as just that. Youngjae's normal, except for this.

Youngjae doesn’t want to be an exception. He’s worked hard to be where he is now, but he refuses to exclude a part of himself in order to remain. He deserves better.

And Daehyun. Daehyun deserves better.

Youngjae takes Himchan’s hand under the table and squeezes his fingers within his own. Himchan squeezes back. The show's hostess' eyes flicker as though she caught the movement, but she doesn’t say anything.

He takes a deep breath, and then Youngjae says, “You know, I was always afraid to think about it too much. Maybe because I was afraid of what I’d find out. I knew I was different. For some reason, while I was young and immature, I thought loving someone one way or another could be wrong. I think there are a lot of people in the world who might feel the same way I did. They might think that what they’re feeling is wrong. But it isn’t. Back to your question, though: I think I always knew my soulmate was going to be a man. I didn’t mean to betray our fans or to lie to them, and I hope they don’t feel that I have, because I can’t change this part of me.”

His mouth is dry and he suddenly realizes how thirsty he is, but the light above the door still says _ON AIR_ , which means they haven’t cut the feed yet, and Younha is staring at him, urging him to continue.

“I’ve always been a pretty private person,” he says, the reality of what he’s just said being broadcast through all of Seoul making him hesitate, a blush crawling up to his cheeks. “And, truly, I wanted this to be private, too. But it turned out like this instead, and I thought it was important to tell the truth.” He ends quickly, in a rush of a breath. “That being said, I would really appreciate it if fans and others would do their best to respect Jung Daehyun’s privacy, going forward.”

Youngjae inclines his head in his seat, a very informal but heartfelt bow.

When he raises his head again, Himchan is rubbing his back and Younha is smiling at him, like she’s _pleased_ with him. It makes no sense, since Youngjae has just derailed the whole show with his statement to the public.

Younha plays the chimes, signaling the beginning of the end of Starry Night Radio. “Oh, that means we only have a little bit of time left. Youngjae-sshi, do you have a final message for your soulmate Daehyun before we play another song off B.A.P’s upcoming mini-album?”

Youngjae’s brain freezes on him. A final message? There’s so much he wants to say. He really hopes Daehyun is listening, has been listening. He’s coming down from the tight energy he’d been holding inside of his chest for the earlier segment, and maybe that feeling of unwinding is what pulls the words out of him. “A final message. Yes. We fell out of touch, you know? It was my fault. Looking back on it now, I know it was my fault. I ran away, like a coward. I really am looking forward to reconnecting with him, even if _I’m_ not _his_ soulmate.”

Younha gasps and interjects, mouthing, _You don’t know?_

Youngjae shakes his head. “I’m an idol and we’ve been so busy monitoring _me_ that I haven’t had time to really talk to him. And I really want to. So, Daehyun, I’m sorry about everything. About -- _everything_. Please, let’s find some time soon to catch up.” Before he can lose the nerve, he adds, “I miss you.”

Younha plays the chimes again. “I’m sure Daehyun-sshi heard your message,” she says, but her face tells Youngjae otherwise. “Himchan-sshi, please promote this next and final song!”

A stone drops in Youngjae’s stomach. He’s really just done this on the radio. The blog post that had come out about Daehyun being Youngjae's soulmate had gained momentum quickly, a nasty surprise, given many reactions, but this was his own doing. He chose this, and though he has an idea of what the consequences will be, he's still anxious about them. He’s not sure if he feels like he’s just successfully climbed the highest mountain in the world or if he’s climbed it only to find another mountain above it.

In his pocket, his phone buzzes. Hastily, Youngjae retrieves it as B.A.P’s song begins to play.

It’s Daehyun, calling.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha this whole thing was only supposed to be two chapters


	7. Chapter 7

The light above the door turns off to signal the end of the broadcast, and immediately the door opens, revealing a red-faced Kang Seokgu. Younha stands and greets the manager, giving Youngjae time to stuff his phone back into his pocket where it vibrates against his thigh.

“That was good,” Himchan whispers to him, just as Kang nears. They both stand, and Youngjae doesn’t miss how Himchan steps right up next to him, shoulder to shoulder, a silent show of support. In this moment, he’s grateful more than ever for his hyung.

“Yoo Youngjae,” Kang says, “Are you crazy?”

He feels a flush rise over his cheeks at the childish statement that’s about to come out of his mouth, but his phone is still buzzing in his pocket. If he rushes, maybe he’ll be able to answer it in private. “I have to go to the bathroom,” Youngjae blurts out. “I can’t hold it.”

His manager sighs irritably. “Go,” Kang says. “But we’re talking about this after.”

Youngjae nods, and Himchan taps him on his rear in a friendly, encouraging way. He bows to Younha in order not to be rude, and then he runs.

.

“Hello?”

His voice echoes in the small individual stall and he winces at how winded he sounds. There is silence on the other end for almost too long -- he thinks maybe Daehyun hung up, after all -- but then there is an answer, and he is no longer winded because there’s no air for him to breathe at all.

“Hey.”

Daehyun’s voice is rich and smooth, unadulterated even through the speakers of his phone, and hearing him after all these years makes Youngjae’s knees weak. He leans against the counter and imagines what Daehyun might look like right now, reconciling his memory of him with a lower voice and a slimmer, more mature face.

“Youngjae, are you there?”

“Yes,” Youngjae exhales. “Yes, I’m here.”

“I heard -- your broadcast,” Daehyun says slowly, like he’s second guessing all of his words. Youngjae remembers how he used to trip over his sentences when they were younger, like he had so many words jammed behind his teeth he’d choke if he didn’t get them out.

“You listened?” Youngjae asks for the sake of asking. His brain is all fogged up. He doesn’t know what he wants to say, not now after his confession on the radio and his spontaneous message.

“I wasn’t going to,” Daehyun mumbles. “But it was playing on the speakers of the restaurant. My co-workers all -- they all think it’s funny, how my name is on your wrist. I tried telling them it must be a different Jung Daehyun, but no one would buy it.”

Youngjae leans against the counter and presses the phone against his ear. It feels hot against his skin. “It’s only you. I’m sorry,” he says.

“It was brave of you to come out over the radio,” Daehyun says next, seeming to ignore Youngjae’s apology. It’s been so long; maybe Daehyun’s has his own confessions to Youngjae that have built up over the years.

Youngjae protests. “It wasn’t brave -- I don’t know. I just needed -- to come clean. It was selfish, in a way.”

“It was brave,” Daehyun insists. “Did you mean what you said? All of it?” His words come out in a rush, in one quick breath.

“Yeah,” Youngjae says. He meant all of it. He meant how he said he’d been scared to think about his soulmate, how he’d been scared to think about love, how he’d known always that he was different. He meant how he felt about Daehyun, too. Youngjae realizes he’s never admitted to both so closely together, like there was a physical wall keeping him from putting the two fears side-by-side. How foolish he’d been. These things were, of course, intricately twisted into each other.

Daehyun doesn’t say anything for a long time, and Youngjae isn’t sure what to say, still. He is content to know that Daehyun hasn’t ended their conversation.

“I want to believe you,” Daehyun says, finally, in a voice that is clouded over with uncertainty. “I want to, but how can I? How do I know you’re not lying? That this isn’t -- part of your company’s plan?”

Youngjae turns around against the counter. The mirror reflects the image of him, only it seems sharper than it should be, all his edges crisp and clean. It’s just the make-up, he realizes. Even though they’d gone onto a radio show, they still sat him in the make-up chair to fix him up for the camera. If he took a towel to his face right now, it would come away tinted with foundation. He reaches out to touch the mirror. His reflected cheek is cold under his fingers. “You can trust me,” Youngjae says. “Of course you can. Don’t you remember--”

“We haven’t spoken for five years,” Daehyun interrupts, “and out of the blue, you want to reconnect?”

“It’s not out of the blue. I turned twenty-one. It’s only been a few days, but I’ve been doing a lot of thinking--”

“Your confession on the radio. I know. It’s hard for me to believe, Youngjae. TS called me before you did. They told me they had it under control. They told me not to react. They had it under control, and don’t they -- don’t they control _you_?”

“I don’t want to fight,” Youngjae says, suddenly desperate, a man thrown overboard with no ability to swim.

“I just don’t get it,” Daehyun continues, riling himself up. “Who do you think you are, coming back into my life like this? After I -- after we--”

He breaks off and makes a noise of frustration.

“This will be better in person,” Youngjae reasons. “Please, let’s talk in person. I want to see you. It’ll be easier -- better -- that way. Don’t you think?”

Another long, drawn-out silence. Youngjae imagines all the answers Daehyun could give him right now, all the excuses not to meet up. He closes his eyes and hopes. A knock on the door makes him jump, but that’s all there is, and then there's the heavy silence that follows, clogging up his ears like cotton.

“I’m working until one in the morning,” Daehyun admits. “You can meet me here, after my shift. If you want.”

Youngjae’s heart flutters around in his chest like a rattled bird, and he barely manages to tell him he would like that very much. “I’ll make it, I promise,” he says.

Daehyun tells him the address of the restaurant and hangs up first. When Youngjae opens the door, Kang is there, arms crossed and wearing a frown.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short short chapter sorry! i'm busy/travelling over the next week so wanted to give a quick update~


	8. Chapter 8

“--can’t believe you did this without consulting me, first,” Kang is saying from the front seat of the van. He’s driving Youngjae and Himchan back to the dorms, and it should be easy to tune him out, but Youngjae finds it isn’t so. He’s always been receptive to feedback, wanting to be better in his skills as an idol, wanting to grow, but Kang isn’t telling him anything helpful, and the child that is still inside of him fights his way to the surface, making him petulant and unresponsive as his manager berates him.

Himchan sits next to him, his thigh pressed right up against Youngjae’s, and the physical contact is helpful, even if Youngjae is staring purposefully out the window, Kang’s words reaching him twice; once in real time and again when the words bounce off the glass.

“Are you even listening?” Seokgu asks when they pull up to a red light. The three of them bob with the momentum of the car as they come to a stop.

Truthfully, he isn’t really -- he’s thinking about his short phone call with Daehyun, how he’s going to get out undetected in order to see him at the restaurant where he works, later tonight. Yongguk will almost certainly be awake, writing in the common room and an innocent barrier between Youngjae and the outside world. When he saw Kang standing outside the bathroom at the broadcasting station, Youngjae had lied and told him he was speaking to his family.

The thought of meeting up with Daehyun ties his stomach up in knots. Daehyun had sounded different on the phone. He supposes that after five years, he probably sounds different to Daehyun, too.

But it was more than that. He sounded -- subdued. Flat. Angry. Sad. Youngjae can’t pinpoint it. He frets internally over what they will say to each other after Youngjae explains himself and apologizes. Will they even _have_ anything to say to each other? The things Youngjae remembers about Daehyun -- are they still true? Or is Youngjae about to sneak out of the dorms to meet up with a complete stranger?

And, as painful as it might be, he wants to know whose name Daehyun has on his wrist. If it’s not Youngjae, then who is it? Someone he met after Youngjae left? Maybe he was even with his soulmate now, explaining who Youngjae is and how he doesn’t matter to Daehyun anymore.

Youngjae shakes his head, alarmed by the downward trail of his thoughts, and Kang makes a noise like a growl in the front seat.

“You’re not even listening. _You’re not even listening._ Youngjae, I love you, you know, but you can’t just do things like this without consulting with your staff first. We weren’t prepared for this surprise. Public relations will need to work even harder than they already are working. Your teammates--”

“I don’t mind,” Himchan says, speaking up for the first time. The light turns green, and Kang slowly inches the car forward. “Youngjae told me beforehand. We all knew, since you all told us -- don't you remember? I’m sure the other members are okay with it, too. As long as Youngjae is happy.”

“Are you?” Kang asks, trying to meet Youngjae’s eyes in the rearview mirror, but the singer is still staring out the window. “Are you happy, Youngjae? With this new mess? My boss is going to be so mad--”

“He should be mad at me,” Youngjae interjects. “And not at you. You didn’t know.”

“ _Exactly._ ” Kang huffs in his seat, his hands tight on the steering wheel. “I didn’t know.”

Youngjae presses his forehead against the window, his breath fogging up the glass. “I needed to do this. For it to be right. The script you guys gave me -- that’s not who I am.”

“Of course that’s not. That’s your character. You’re an _idol_ , Youngjae. We talked about this.”

“I thought you would be on my side,” Youngjae says emphatically. Himchan puts his hand over his thigh again. “You said, if there were sides to this, you’d be on mine.”

“There weren’t supposed to be sides,” Kang says, but his anger is weakening.

They ride in silence for the next minute or so, Kang presumably still stewing over Youngjae's outburst on the radio, and Youngjae just stewing. He knew some people would be angry with him, but he hadn't counted on his manager being one of them. Himchan offers Youngjae one of his earbuds, and Youngjae takes it, jamming it into his ear. His hyung is listening to an old ballad, soothing and slow, melodic. It's the kind of song Daehyun would have really liked back when they were kids, though Himchan of course can't know that.

"If there were sides," Kang finally says as they're pulling up to their dorm building, "of course I'd be on yours. But I don't like you feeling like you have to hide these things from me. It's not like -- we're not an oppressive regime trying to hold you down, you know. You don't have to stage a rebellion."

Youngjae takes out the earbud in order to give his manager his full attention. He looks at him in the mirror. Then, he slides himself forward in his seat, until his face is just behind Kang's headrest. "If I hadn't done this, the company would still be trying to find a way to spin it, spin my story. I'm okay with almost anything else, Seokgu-hyung, but not this. You have to give me this."

Seokgu brings the van to a stop in front of the entrance to the building, putting the vehicle in park and then pressing his fingers to his temples, rubbing them in circles, massaging out the tension. "Fine," he says. "Fine -- just be careful, okay?"

“Of course,” Youngjae says, as Himchan opens the door to climb out. Sneakers hit the pavement and Youngjae leans his head into the van again. “And thank you. You’re...a good manager, and a good hyung. So, thanks.”

Kang sinks down into his seat and laughs without really making a sound. “A good hyung, you say? I guess you _are_ like a pesky little brother. Get out of here. Lay low. TS doesn’t want you out and about for now, okay?”

“Thanks for looking out for me,” Youngjae says.

He closes the door, feeling a little worse about planning to sneak out to meet up with Daehyun, now that he’s spoken with his manager. Maybe he should have told him. Himchan taps his foot impatiently at the entrance, hands in the pockets of his jacket and breath coming out in a cloud of mist. “C’mon. I’m freezing, Jae.”

Kang drives off, probably to rendezvous with the staff.

.

The other members of B.A.P are all there, gathered in the common room, when he and Himchan enter their cozy dorm. It brings Youngjae up short when he registers the expectant looks on the faces of the other three boys where they are sitting on the couch and floor. Jongup has a slight tilt in his eyebrows suggesting concern and Junhong's lips are parted even though he's leaning with his chin onto the palm of his hand, eyes large. Yongguk's eyebrows are a line across his forehead, and the groove runs deep.

The door closes behind him and before he even slips off his shoes he's inclining his head to them in a bow, feeling guilty. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before," he says, grimacing with how formal he sounds. "This must have been a surprise for you and--"

"Stop that. Come here, Youngjae." Yongguk's rumble of a voice reaches him across the short distance. Youngjae lifts his head and sees Yongguk standing, his stance relaxed and his arms thrown out from his sides. When he stares, Yongguk smirks and gestures with his fingers.

It takes two giant steps for Youngjae to travel the distance and slam himself against Yongguk's chest. He hadn't realized how much he needed it until he was clutching around Yongguk's shoulders, the warmth of their leader comforting and solid. The message is clear and resounding: we're here for you.

"It's okay. Kang probably told you he thought it was dumb," Yongguk mumbles into his hair as Junhong joins the hug from behind and Jongup from the side, "but we've got your back. Okay?"

"Yeah," Youngjae manages. "Okay. Thank you, hyung."

.

The evening had wiped him out. Youngjae finds himself crawling into bed around midnight wondering how he's going to be able to sneak out and meet up with Daehyun and carry on a meaningful conversation with his long-lost friend-turned-soulmate when he's this strange combination of bone-tired and restless. His hair is still wet from the shower he took, so he presses his face into his pillow and makes himself breathe.

He's a pro at dealing with stress, but _this_ stress is of a different kind.

He hasn't heard anything from Kang, which means the TS staff are probably still deliberating Youngjae's actions, or they haven't found a good way to tell Yongguk before telling Youngjae whatever they've decided. A spike of anxiety rushes through him at the thought that the company will kick him out. Are they contractually able to do so? Youngjae will have to look through the language of his employment letter.

Fingers brush through his wet hair and the bed dips. Junhong says, "Hyung, are you okay?"

The unwanted feeling of anxiety leaves him. Besides, they'd be silly to kick him out, now.

Youngjae turns his face to the side so that his cheek is smashed against the pillow. Junhong hovers before sitting against the headboard, and Youngjae brings himself up to sit next to him. "I think so."

"Are you thinking about it?"

"Not really," Youngjae admits. The urge to chew on his fingernails arises, but he doesn't let himself succumb. "I'm thinking about, well--"

"Daehyun?" Junhong supplies helpfully. There's a towel around his neck, catching the water that drips down from his hair.

"Yeah."

"Do you think he was listening? Are you worried?"

"I know he was listening."

"How?"

"He...called me. After the broadcast." Youngjae does chew on his fingernails then, and Junhong smiles.

"So you guys are talking! That's great," he says. "Isn't it?" he adds when Youngjae is not forthcoming.

Youngjae says, "He wants to meet up."

"When?"

"Tonight. In about an hour."

Junhong starts, almost jumping off the bed and making the springs squeak. "Oh! What are you still doing here, then? You should be on your way! Right? Your hair's a mess, hyung, and you can't go out to meet him wearing your _pajamas_ , right--"

Youngjae watches his dongsaeng fret, and it brings laughter bursting out of his mouth. When Junhong hears it, he frowns and pauses.

"What's funny?"

"You," Youngjae says between giggles. "You know, I think you and Daehyun would get along."

Junhong's frown deepens like a caricature's.

"I just mean," Youngjae amends, "that you guys are both kind of anxious people. I mean, you don't show it as much, but you're always kind of watching out for other people. He was like that, too."

"Was?"

"Is. I mean 'is', and hopefully that's still the case."

He turns his wrist around in order to look at the tattoo. It's faint against his skin, like he's had it forever. He wonders briefly if that's how these things work, if the name is always there under your skin until you come of age, and some biological or supernatural force brings it to the surface.

"Are you afraid he's changed a lot?" Junhong asks, settling again. Youngjae stares at him, a mix of surprised and annoyed that Junhong always seems to be able to pull out the thought that he's trying to keep buried in his mind.

"Yes," Youngjae admits. "I'm nervous. I'm nervous he's changed a lot. I'm nervous I've changed a lot. I'm nervous we don't fit together the same way we used to. I'm nervous we don't fit together at all. What if I meet up with him and he tells me -- he tells me I'm not his? I mean, maybe that's why he's been so hesitant over the phone, why he hasn't reached out."

"It's no use going in thinking like that," Junhong tells him, putting a long arm across Youngjae's shoulders. "What if it's perfect?"

The singer thinks about everything it's taken to reach this point. "It's not going to be perfect," he mumbles.

"It could be," Junhong insists. Youngjae doesn't say anything. "How are you going to get out of here?"

"I'll go when Yongguk is in the bathroom or something. I just need to get out of the dorms. I think I can get there pretty easily. And I'll wear a mask and my hood up and stuff."

"I'll help you," Junhong says brightly. "It'll be exciting!"

"You'll get in trouble, no, I can't--"

"Help you reach your true love? C'mon, hyung, I want to help. It'll be like a fairytale. Maybe one day we'll write a song about this. Let me be your godmother."

Youngjae snorts with the sudden image of Junhong towering over him in a long blue dress, waving a dainty wand. Junhong grins, pleased with himself.

"You know how you said, you said you hoped your soulmate would be someone like me?"

Junhong nods.

Youngjae pushes himself up in order to kiss Junhong on the cheek, smiling when the younger boy flushes at the contact. "Well, I think whoever is your soulmate is going to be the luckiest person, Junhong."

He doesn't move away when he sees a shadow fall over Junhong's face at his words, so he also doesn't miss what Junhong says next with a small smile of his own.

"It could still be you."

.

Their attempt at sneaking out is thwarted by Yongguk, who, as Youngjae expected, was writing in the common room nursing a bowl of then-cold ramyun. Junhong had planned to tell their hyung and leader they were going out for snacks; Yongguk had stared at them both before sighing in disappointment and saying, "You're not sneaking out to get snacks. I have a good feeling about where you're going. Just go, Youngjae. But be safe. Do you need anyone to go with you?"

Stunned, Youngjae squeaked out a quick, "No, I don't think so," and then Yongguk ushered him out, making sure he was wearing his mask, that his hood was drawn up, that he had warm packs in his pockets for his hands. He heard Junhong complaining to Yongguk that he'd ruined the thrill of the thing entirely as the door shut behind him.

This brings him to his current location, standing outside of a small, unassuming restaurant on the first floor of a busy building near a college in the city. The restaurant where Daehyun works part-time boasts handmade _jebi_ noodles in an array of comforting and thick soups perfect for late fall and in the dead of winter. Even standing outside of it, the smell brings Youngjae back to winters as a child, when his mother would make this kind of meal for a hearty dinner, getting flour all over her fingers as she twisted the dough for the noodles into funny shapes.

The door opens and the electronic bell inside the restaurant chimes as a couple exit the restaurant, a burst of warm air hitting Youngjae's chilled cheeks. He cranes his neck in order to peek inside through the fogged-up windows, but he can't make anything out, can't separate Daehyun from the few people moving around in there.

Taking an over-exaggerated breath to calm his nerves, Youngjae pulls the door open and steps through, instantly feeling the warmth wash over him.

The hostess greets him immediately. She's a girl about Youngjae's age, with a round face and big eyes. Her voice is sweet and high. "Welcome, please come in. How many -- oh my god."

Youngjae's eyes flicker to her face and then back down again. She's gaping at him.

"You're -- you're -- you're --"

"Here to see Daehyun?" Youngjae offers helpfully, his voice muffled by his mask. He gives her his most hopeful eyes, silently pleading with her to be discrete.

She nods while bowing, flustered but managing to say, "Of course -- He mentioned. Ah, of course, I'll go get him. Stay here. No, I mean, follow me!"

The hostess moves with purpose, quickly towards the back of the restaurant. There are few customers at this time of night, just a couple of older folks and a few younger groups here and there.

"He's just finishing up," the hostess babbles, turning back to look at Youngjae as she walks and squeaking when they make eye contact, turning around again immediately. "He mentioned you would be coming -- oh, I already said that. Is it true? Can I -- Can I see it?"

They've come to a stop without Youngjae realizing, near the back corner where there are a couple of boys sitting together, refilling small containers of silver chopsticks and spoons to be placed back onto waiting tables. The hostess peers at him with her big eyes and then looks down at where his hands are stuck in the pockets of his coat.

"Can you -- ah, you mean the tattoo? I don't know if -- that is, well --"

Youngjae is cut off when one of the boys sorting chopsticks stands and walks over to them, and he puts a hand on the hostess' shoulder, and he says, "Gayoung-ah, thanks. I'll take it from here."

Youngjae feels his breath leave his lungs as Gayoung walks away, still sharing without shame, is aware of the sudden hush in the back corner as the staff take notice, and then the boy is saying, "C'mon, Youngjae. Why don't we go sit down."

.

He wants to reach across the table and take Daehyun's fingers into his own where he's fidgeting, but Daehyun hasn't reached out at all and Youngjae isn't sure how to start. He looks -- great, really, just as Youngjae remembered. Same tanned skin like he carries the beach with him, the little beauty mark under his eye, sloped shoulders and a slight slouch his mother would always worry over. He's dressed in all black, like the rest of the staff. Youngjae swears he's wearing lipgloss, though. He doesn't remember Daehyun's lips ever being that full or pink or shiny.

He's lost a bit of the baby fat on his cheeks, too, so his face is slimmer than before, and underneath the black clothing, Youngjae can detect the hint of hard and soft muscle. They are of height, which is a bit of a disappointment; Youngjae had always thought he'd be taller than the other, if they ever met again.

"So," Daehyun says as soon as they sit. "You look well."

"Thanks. You do, too." Youngjae winces when he says this, hating how stilted he sounds. He pushes through the feeling that's tying his stomach up in knots and continues, "How've you been?"

"Well," Daehyun says stiffly, "Do you want to know about the first two years or the last three years?"

So he's not going to make this easy.

"Let's start with the last couple of weeks," Youngjae offers peacefully. "Yeah?"

"Mostly confused, tired, stressed," Daehyun begins. "I've gotten pretty good at running from reporters and crazed fans, so at least I'm exercising."

Youngjae starts to laugh before catching himself, because Daehyun just stares at him with his lips in a tight, straight line, unamused. It's a strange, unfamiliar look on a familiar face.

"I'm sorry," Youngjae says, sighing. "I'll say it as many times as you want. And I mean it every time. I'm sorry this whole -- situation -- has been such an inconvenience for you." Silence. Youngjae wracks his brain for something else to say. "So, how long have you been working here?"

"You said you wanted to talk in person," Daehyun says, rather than answer his question.

"I did, you're right. I wanted a chance to explain everything, and I thought it wouldn't be fair to do this over the phone."

Daehyun leans his elbows on the table and quirks an eyebrow at him. He used to do the same when someone was giving him a hard time at school. Back then, Youngjae knew it was an act of bravado to ward off other students, but now he can't be too sure.

It is then that Youngjae notices Daehyun is wearing long sleeves. Of course he is, in the winter, but he can't help but wonder. He peers a little closer and sees the top of a wristband over his left wrist, and when Daehyun notices, he takes his elbows off the table and folds his hands into his lap.

The words are falling out of Youngjae's mouth before he can stop himself, his curiosity bubbling over. "Can I just ask -- is it someone I know?"

Daehyun scowls, and his face goes dark, shut like someone has turned off the lights. Youngjae sits up a little straighter, unprepared to face whatever vitriol Daehyun has built up inside of himself over the years to be unleashed at his seemingly innocuous question.

"Youngjae," Daehyun says, the corners of his lips dragging down. Youngjae hears the scatter of oil hitting a frying pan in the kitchen, the escape of steam from a hot pot, the clank of spoons against metal. All of this becomes a buzz in his ears when Daehyun says, "It's _you_ , of course."

Seconds tick by that feel like centuries. Eventually, the buzz dies down, but Youngjae's throat is dry like a desert. "W-what?"

"It's your name."

"But," Youngjae says. It feels like his universe just expanded and shrank without him inside. "But you didn't -- you didn't tell me," he whispers, leaning in close again, heart racing. He's on Daehyun's wrist. _He's_ Daehyun's soulmate. Maybe there's a chance, after all. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Now Daehyun crosses his arms and sits up hard against the back of his chair. "You seemed busy," is all he says. "Or like you forgot about me."

"Never," Youngjae blurts.

"You did," Daehyun accuses, color coming into his cheeks. "You forgot about me. I called you. I waited for you to return my calls, to come back, but you never did. What chance did I have with you, anyway? A hotshot idol. Then, suddenly you're twenty-one and I'm your soulmate. God, you must have hated that, right? You have your company call me first and then leave me to fend for myself with your fans and the reporters."

"That's not what happened--"

Daehyun rises in his seat, anger coming off of him in waves, and Youngjae quickly rephrases.

"That's not what was _meant_ to happen. It was an accident, okay? I wanted to call you first. But the paparazzi leaked a photo of me with the tattoo, and then -- and then I was too chicken shit to call you after that. I didn't know how to call you. I was scared."

Daehyun doesn't say anything, but he sinks back down into his seat and crosses his arms, pouting. Youngjae continues.

"I was scared. I messed up, okay? I know that now. It started with -- the audition. It started when I went to audition and didn't tell you, and it just turned into this bigger and bigger thing, the closer I got to debuting, and god, I was terrified."

Youngjae's voice shakes. He should have much better control over it, with all of his training, but he can't bring himself to care. He feels vulnerable, but maybe that's okay.

Daehyun says, "What were you scared of?"

"That you hated me," Youngjae says readily. "That you'd be mad at me."

"I _am_ mad at you," Daehyun says, and Youngjae's insides freeze. "For kissing me and leaving the next day, for leaving me in the dark forever, for cutting me off when--"

"I was sixteen," Youngjae pleads, unable to look Daehyun in the eyes, voice rising. "I was sixteen and dumb and full of myself and I didn't want to -- continue if it was just going to get fucked up when we turned 21, you know?"

"I was sixteen, and I was _in love with you_." Daehyun sniffs, and Youngjae looks to him in alarm. Daehyun's eyes are wet and fat tears splash down onto the table before he can stop them. He scrubs his hands across his eyes to catch the rest of them but it's too late; Youngjae saw. "I'm not a kid anymore, but, _god_ all your emotions are so big when you're a stupid teenager, right? You _left_ me. It felt horrible. I don't think I've ever been as miserable as I was for the first couple of months after you disappeared. It was like someone chopped off my legs and told me to run. You didn't want to fuck anything up but I guess it all got fucked, anyway."

"I was scared," Youngjae whispers. Daehyun scrubs at his skin again, his face tight like he's trying to hold an ocean behind his eyes. His nose is ruddy and red. Still, Youngjae thinks he looks beautiful. "I was doing this big thing with my life, and you came along -- it feels like you've always been there -- and you wanted me to kiss you. And I thought -- I don’t know -- I thought that was wrong. I thought I had to choose one happiness or the other. I didn’t get to have both, and auditioning for a big company was fucking _not as scary_ as telling you I liked you, and that I wanted to kiss you again. I messed up, Daehyun. Please forgive me?"

Youngjae reaches across the table and touches Daehyun's wet cheek with the pad of his index finger, and when he cups his hand Daehyun leans into it, breath shuddering.

"You left to join all the pretty people in their pretty lives and you're an idol and you just -- you just seemed so unreachable, and I was just this stupid kid from high school, and you were going to be a star, and I was nothing."

"You were never nothing, Dae," Youngjae says. His chest swells with a warmth he hasn't felt before.

"I missed you," Daehyun says, shivering with it.

Youngjae stands up and crosses over to sit in the other seat on Daehyun's side. After a pregnant moment, their arms reach for each other, and then Youngjae has Daehyun crushed up against his chest, and Daehyun's got his waist in a tight embrace. "I'm sorry," Youngjae whispers again. "I missed you, too. I'm sorry I did that. I missed you, too."

.

They stay like that, locked together, until Youngjae can't feels his arms anymore and Daehyun has stopped sniffling. When they both come up for air, Youngjae sees the flash of a light out of the corner of his eye, and Daehyun stiffens.

"Oh no," Daehyun groans. " _Gayoung._ "

"I'm sorry!" The hostess appears again as though summoned. Daehyun sits up and Youngjae immediately misses his warmth. "I might have...tweeted something."

"I specifically asked you _not_ to," Daehyun says.

"I slipped," Gayoung returns with a pitiful look. "I couldn't help it. I had to share this beautiful moment."

Slowly, they stand, and Youngjae surveys the crowd that has gathered outside the restaurant entrance. They don't look particularly rowdy, although the number of flashes per minute hurts his eyes. "Do you have a back? Maybe we can go out that way?"

"Oh," Gayoung nods. "Yes, we do. That's good. Let me check!"

She does so, and Daehyun tugs on Youngjae's hand. He turns his eyes to him, feeling himself smile again for no reason.

"Are you going to get in trouble?" Daehyun asks, "For coming out to see me?"

"Probably," Youngjae says, shrugging. "But it's worth it." He doesn't miss the little grin Daehyun tries to hide with his chin tucked to his chest.

Gayoung returns and declares the back exit less crowded than the front. "You'll have to move fast, I guess," she says, sounding remorseful.

"Should we run for it?" Youngjae asks Daehyun, whose eyes glitter at the thought.

"I think we'll be okay," he says, taking Youngjae's hand. "Yeah, let's run for it."

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one more to go~ thanks to everyone who has been reading and commenting and leaving kudos -- it means a lot to me! <3 hope you are enjoying yourselves <3


	9. Chapter 9

Contrary to what Junhong optimistically told him that night he and Daehyun finally reunited, things are not perfect. Daehyun is a struggling student and Youngjae is an idol who is in a (rather large) spot of trouble with his company, an idol who is being watched over closely not only by staff but by reporters and photographers and bloggers, especially after the news came out that Youngjae had “escaped the dorms and security of TS” to “rekindle the fire of a childhood love with his soulmate.”

“This article is crazy,” Daehyun tells him over the phone. Youngjae is reviewing lines with Junhong for a promo ad they are going to shoot tomorrow on public safety. “ _Jung Daehyun’s eyes welled up with tears when he saw it was his soulmate, B.A.P’s Yoo Youngjae, who had entered the restaurant and not just another customer_. _He rushed into his arms immediately to the surprise and delight of the other diners there._ I did no such thing. This is ridiculous. I didn’t even greet you first. This is all lies. Yah, are you laughing?”

Youngjae is laughing. Junhong, beside him on their bed, is snickering as well. They have the same article pulled up on the iPad between them, and Youngjae skims over the small type. “ _Oceans of tears seemed to spill over as emotions ran high and intense like a mid-summer swell,_ ” Youngjae reads aloud. “Hey, these articles are the only reason why I’m even allowed out of my dorm anymore, okay? TS doesn’t want the backlash of seeming like they’re restricting our amazing love.”

“So I’m just supposed to accept that everyone now thinks I’m a big crybaby with stars in my eyes for you?”

“Well,” Youngjae teases, “you kind of are.”

“Put Junhong on the phone,” Daehyun says grumpily. “I want to talk to him about all the embarrassing and stupid things you used to do when you were younger.”

Youngjae does so, grinning at his younger bandmate as he hands over his phone. “He wants to complain to you.”

Junhong rolls his eyes but takes the phone and rolls over onto his back, and Youngjae keeps an ear open toward their conversation while he goes over his lines again.

It’s only been a few weeks, but he’s surprised by the bond that Daehyun and Junhong have formed over that time, just over the phone.

Even though the company is trying to be more lenient, it’s still difficult for them to see each other. They are afraid to let Youngjae go completely, to give him freedom to do as he pleases, so staff must accompany him when he goes out on company-approved dates. The staff try to blend in with the environment, but it’s obvious they are always being watched.

Daehyun does not like that one bit.

“They’re afraid I’m going to say something inflammatory,” Youngjae explains over coffee and cheesecake one sunny afternoon, Daehyun glaring at him from behind his sunglasses.

“I hope you do,” Daehyun grumbles, pointed and hurt. “I hope you do and it blows up and you get free reign to do as you please so we can do this for real.”

At first, Youngjae believed the hurdle was too high for them to jump over together, that even though they were soulmates their differences and time apart and all these other obstacles would be too much, that it just wouldn’t work. They have, after all, been apart for longer than they were ever together.

But maybe this is what it means for things to come full-circle, and now that he is older and just a little bit wiser he can move forward with all the memories they shared in order to create new ones, together. Youngjae gets to relearn and discover what makes Daehyun tick, what makes him angry or sad or happy or excited, the parts of him he likes to be touched, the parts of him he isn’t ready to share yet.

Youngjae will learn those parts, too, because he isn’t running away this time.

Youngjae takes Daehyun’s hand over the table and rubs his thumb over his soft skin there. “This is real to me,” he says.

Daehyun looks down at their linked fingers, then back up, his lips slightly parted, and Youngjae wonders if he’ll be able to taste the cheesecake on them when he kisses him.

.

 

 

_[coda]_

“For those just tuning it, this is Younha’s Starry Night Radio! We have B.A.P in the studio with us, who have just made their comeback with the lovely chart-topper, _1004_. Please welcome B.A.P!”

Younha plays the applause track and the group cheers alongside it, excited to be back on the show as a team. They talk briefly about what preparations went into producing the album and what fans and listeners have to look forward to in the next couple of weeks from B.A.P, including a variety show appearance and guerilla concert in Myeongdong. Younha plays the title track, and when they return to the broadcast, she turns to Youngjae.

He straightens in his seat, prepared.

“Youngjae-sshi,” Younha begins, pleasant as always, “last time you came onto the show, you surprised us all by coming out on a live broadcast while sending a heartfelt message to your soulmate Jung Daehyun-sshi. I’m sure we have a lot to catch up on with you since then, wouldn’t you say?”

“Oh,” Youngjae says, “there’s plenty for us to talk about there.”

Younha offers him a smile that’s tucked into the corners of her mouth, and Himchan, sitting beside him, smacks him lightly on his thigh with a chuckle.

“We’re eager to find out how your relationship is going -- of course, according to various news resources, it seems to be going well -- but before we get to that I’m more interested in how it feels to be out in an entertainment community that does not necessarily encourage it. Can you please tell us about that?”

She blinks at him innocently. Those exact words aren’t on the script, though Younha had stuck close to the general line of questioning. In her words, though, are an added challenge. When they make eye contact, Youngjae takes in her stare and realizes how important this could be.

He leans in close to the microphone, thoughts organizing quickly and Daehyun’s smiling face flashing behind his eyes, takes a deep breath, and begins to speak.

.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who stuck this through and offered their thoughts and comments along the way. You all are wonderful.
> 
> As many in the fandom are aware, B.A.P really need our support at this time and I'd like to ask everyone to be considerate when speaking about the lawsuit on SNS. I just mean I've seen a lot of negative energy going around and it's quite heartbreaking to see the fandom so fragmented. Please take care of yourselves!

**Author's Note:**

> [writing](andnowforyaya.tumblr.com) || [twitter](https://twitter.com/andnowforyaya)


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